


Cubicle

by pegasus



Category: Newsies (1992)
Genre: F/M, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-09-30
Updated: 2010-09-30
Packaged: 2017-10-12 08:15:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/122809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pegasus/pseuds/pegasus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Forget high school and college - you're out in the real world now. Welcome to your first day at the Pulitzer Publishing Company. Modern Day AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cubicle

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I do not own Newsies (unfortunately). The original characters Corky, Adren, and Polaroid belong to their respective owners (thank you, ladies!)
> 
>  **Author's Note:** In the spirit of silliness, I present "Cubicle," a modern day AU that sticks the newsboys we know and love into the real world of an office as interns and respectable(?) employees. I hope you enjoy!

" _Ahem_. Is this thing on? Seitz. Seitz—is this damned microphone on? Speak up! What is this piece of paper you keep shoving down my throat? My what—my speech? I don't need a speech. For god's sakes man, this is a damn novel, Jonathan… All right, all right, quit squeaking and let's get on with it." Joseph Pulitzer let out another irritated _ahem_ as he addressed the large conference room. "Shut up, all of you. So you're all here, are you?" He adjusted the wire-framed glasses on the bridge of his nose and gruffly began to read the pre-prepared speech: "Welcome, summer interns, to the Pulitzer Publishing Company. You've chosen a fine place to begin your journey into the exciting world of publishing. As you know, we are an award-winning company and we continue to be one because of our talented people and most importantly, our incredible teamwork. For you historians out there, the Pulitzer story began when - what is this crap? They should all know this already! And if they don't, they shouldn't be here. Let's see here…" He waved his arms about and emitted strange sounds while clucking his tongue, skimming to the end of the speech. "We couldn't be more excited to have such brilliant potential this year. I promise you will learn a lot while you are here. This is an amazing place to be. This is a place where dreams come tr—Jonathan, this is not Disney Land."

He flattened the speech down on the podium. " _Brilliant potential_ ," he muttered mockingly. "I'll warn you all right now: if you don't put the work in, you'll be fired."

"We ain't even gettin' paid," someone in the audience muttered.

"What was that?" Pulitzer practically shouted, straining his ears.

He was met with silence.

"As I was saying. If you don't work, you'll be fired immediately. I don't tolerate slacking off in my company. You're not here to be lazy and do whatever you want. You're here to work and follow directions. That's the problem with this generation. No work ethic. When I was your age, I was already a Captain in the War—"

"The War of 1812?" someone else cracked. The comment was followed by a few snickers and giggles.

Pulitzer was obviously hard of hearing, for he continued on. "—and we all knew what diligence, and respect, and pride meant! That was the greatest generation of men and women. And now we've come to this, kids today who can't even wipe their own—"

"All right!" Seitz interrupted, quickly pulling the podium microphone away from Pulitzer. "What a wonderful speech, Mr. Pulitzer. Let's give a hand for the Founder and President of our company, everyone."

Despite the miserable speech, everyone politely obliged. A rather respectable applause filled the room. Pulitzer mumbled something about "hooligans needing to tuck in their shirts" before stepping off the stage and walking out through the back of the auditorium.

The President of the Pulitzer Publishing Company, Joseph Pulitzer, rarely made such appearances and presented speeches. The reason he even came out on this particular morning was mostly due to his Advisor Seitz and Assistant Jonathan's urging, and partly because, surprisingly, Pulitzer loved interns. There were always a handful of interns who were ambitious, eager, and energetic - always willing to do more work. And then there were the others who were not, but they had no choice but to do the work anyway. It was free labor. And it was completely legal.

… Perhaps it was not too surprising why Pulitzer loved having interns.

"Well, everyone," Seitz began, trying to save the moment. "We really are happy to have you here. I hope you're all excited because we've got several special events planned for this summer. And, uh… yes, refreshments and snacks are in the back, and we will get started with the rest of our intern orientation program in a bit. Please, help yourselves to the food." Seitz stepped off the stage and after having a hurried discussion with Jonathan, quickly sent the Assistant out of the auditorium.

The interns were left fiddling their thumbs.

An auburn-haired girl sitting in the middle section of the auditorium stared after the now empty stage with a look of utter confusion. "I… don't even know what just happened." Her head resting in her hands, her olive green eyes moved to and fro in uncertainty.

"Beats me," said the girl sitting to her immediate right.

"So, what are we supposed to be doing exactly?" asked another girl from behind.

"Feeding ourselves?"

The first girl shrugged. "Free food sounds good to me."

The three girls rose from their seats and made their way to the snack table near the back of the auditorium. A winding line had already formed there. They stood behind two boys, who were jovially exchanging high fives. One of them, the one with a curly mop of brown hair, was clutching at his stomach and laughing hysterically.

"The War of 1812… brilliant, Blink. Just brilliant," he said, clapping his friend on the back. His friend bowed in exaggerated appreciation.

The girls themselves exchanged a soft chuckle upon overhearing the boys. The girl with the auburn hair spoke up then, addressing the two girls. "Sorry, I didn't catch your names. Mine's Addie - well, I guess you could call me Adren around here."

"Yeah! Isn't it weird that—I'm Corky, by the way—isn't it weird that we don't go by our real names around here? That was the strangest interview question ever: 'Do you have a nickname?' I thought it was a trick question. That, or the interviewer was flirting with me and… ew. Oh, and he was wearing this blazer and it was bothering the heck out of me that day. It had these super bright polka dots _and_ stripes and it was practically screaming, 'look at me, look at me!' I barely paid any attention to what the guy was saying - I just could not stop staring at it! I honestly don't know how I even got this job after that. Anyway, sorry, I go on tangents. What's your name?" she asked the third girl.

She smiled good-naturedly, tucking a strand of brown hair behind her ear. "S'okay. Mine's Polaroid."

"It's nice to meet you girls. A—wait, did you say job?" Adren asked Corky.

"Yep! Human Resources. I'm actually not an intern, but it's my first day here so I figured I'd stick around with all the other first-timers," she explained.

"That's awesome. Did they ask you a lot of tough questions for the job interview? Because I felt like I was taking a test in mine…"

"He asked me what the first book was that President Pulitzer ever read. I had no idea," admitted Polaroid.

"Yeah, it was crazy! I've never had an interview where they drill you on the history of the company. I mean, they always say know the organization for your interview, but that was ridiculous."

"I know. But hey, congratulations on getting the job!" Adren praised sincerely. She was impressed that anyone could find a paying job in the stingy job market these days, especially one at such a renowned organization.

"Thanks!" Corky beamed. "I'm really looking forward to working here," she said, a bit coyly. As though a sudden thought occurred to her, Corky stood on her tiptoes then and scanned the auditorium.

She was obviously searching for something. "Are you waiting for someone?" Polaroid asked.

Corky returned to her feet. "Huh? Oh, no. No, just… just wondering if they have blueberry muffins," she said, a hint of a blush creeping to her cheeks.

Neither of the other girls took notice as they finally came upon the snack table and started to fill their paper plates with food.

* * *

Jack Kelly brought the coffee mug to his lips, closely studying the view before him. He took a small sip and then took a thoughtful bite from his bagel. "I don't get it," he said. "That was the lousiest thing I've ever heard. Even for the old man." He'd been witness to one or two other Pulitzer speeches, and the old man never stuck to the speeches his advisors wrote for him; instead, he always ended up tossing the papers away and droned on and on about how he "built this company with his two bare hands." After taking another slow sip of the brewed caffeine, Jack said with consternation, "And they all look so… happy about it."

"I'd say downright excited," Skittery said with his mouth full.

Race chuckled knowingly. "They have no idea what they're in for."

The three employees stood lounging in the back of the auditorium. They had invited themselves into the event in the conference auditorium when they learned the company was providing free breakfast. They'd only been working at the Pulitzer Publishing Company since the beginning of the year, but this particular trio had already developed radar for sensing free things, especially when the free things was food. Skittery and Race had already stashed several bagels and pastries into their messenger bags. Jack was about to stock up for himself when David Jacobs came power-walking into the auditorium.

"Davey! Ya made it to the buffet," Jack greeted.

"Hey guys, how's it going," David returned. "We have a—oh, hey, glazed donuts." He treated himself to the food on the table. After taking a large bite of his donut, he continued. "We have a meeting upstairs."

"A meeting? Since when?"

"Since now."

"No one told me about a meeting this morning," Jack said, irritated by the lack of notice.

"No one knew. Jonathan just called one."

"Oh, great," Race mumbled, clearly exasperated. "I hope Mr. Pants-too-tight doesn't try to put in that 'Substitute a Thank You with a Hug' rule again."

Skittery snickered at the memory of a frustrated Jonathan when he saw everyone in the office was not only _not_ hugging each other constantly, but ignoring each other completely. Truth was that everyone on their floor had agreed to communicate through instant messaging and emails that day. Just to rattle him.

"We better go. He was already starting to throw a little fit before I left to come find you guys," David said. He glanced at the people crowding the other end of the snack table. "Are those the summer interns?"

"Yeah," Jack said.

"Ah ha!"

"Exactly."


End file.
